Mess

I’m not sure how I feel

for real

I’m a bipolar mess

it’s love

and other days its hate

And I’ve shifted left

and wandered and lost my way

being right

And all I know for sure

when I let it

It hurts

sometimes Its good

and sometimes I’m a fool

I wonder

while I wander

aimlessly thinking

always overthinking

if you’re real

or just illusion

And I’m stuck in this circle

without a single reassurance

I can’t let go

I’ll sink to the bottom

and somehow you

somehow its you

I can’t fucking live without you

And I hate myself

because I know I’m right

I’m so right about being wrong

and you’re my cancer

my weakness

and I’d cut you out

to save myself

but you’re too deep

and I can’t fucking live without you.

 

 

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Author: doing2016

I started writing when I was very young. Then I was mortified on a bus full of people when one of my stories was read aloud. I lost my focus and quit. Now, I'm trying to find my voice and my ambition. I love to write, good or bad. So, I'm doing it here and now. Thank you.

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